


A Brand-New Game

by chelseagirl



Series: Alias Investigations [6]
Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-24 19:01:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelseagirl/pseuds/chelseagirl
Summary: Watching four active children can be a challenge.





	A Brand-New Game

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a monthly challenge, and the theme was "May." I'm touched and delighted to say that I won.
> 
> The story takes place somewhat later than any of the other Alias Investigations stories to date, and there are spoilers therein. So if you don't want to know who had how many children and what their names are, until we actually get there the long way around, you might want to skip this for now.

“May we go play outside?” Thaddeus Curry asked his Auntie Ella.

His younger brother Joshua (and Jed had had way too much fun naming his offspring after his and his partner’s former aliases, Ella reflected, not for the first time, or even the hundredth) tugged at her sleeve. “May we? Please?”

The Currys were raising their children to be polite, that was for certain, she reflected. And she hadn’t been asked to watch them in a long while, and after all, Jed and Sandy deserved a romantic night at that lovely inn over in Roches Rouges for their anniversary, didn’t they? The boys had been good as gold the first day, only getting a bit rambunctious in the evening. But then, Heyes had been there, amusing them and keeping them in order. When he wasn’t chasing them around the yard, and vice versa, that is.

But this morning, he’d surprised her with the announcement that he had forgotten all about promising Kyle Murtry that he’d go fishing with him this weekend, and after all, it wasn’t nice to poor Kyle to just abandon him like that.

Ella had suggested that he take the boys along, but he’d looked at her with horror. He’d reminded her that he and Kyle were likely to get to reminiscing about the old days, and it just wasn’t right to expose the boys to that kind of talk. And then he’d left quickly, before she could remind him that he and their father talked about those same old days with some frequency, right in front of the boys.

So here she was, and admittedly she was not at her best with a pair of vigorous young boys of six and seven years old. She sighed and put her book down, again.

“Well . . . “ she hesitated, “it’s just that your sister and Bella are sound asleep and . . .” She trailed off. How parents had the energy to keep up with multiple children running in multiple directions was one of those things that constantly amazed her. One was nice. She liked having one. “You may go outside, but is that really what you want to do?”

“Yes!” shouted both boys.

After all, how dangerous could it be to let them out on their own? As long as they promised to stay on the property.

Let me count the ways . . . they could climb the apple trees and break their necks. They could dash out onto the road and get run over by a passing wagon. They could fall into the creek behind the house and drown. They could catch the influenza like Rachel had, all those years ago, and never recovered. She knew that wasn’t fair to the children, that she couldn’t keep them locked away.

Locked away. Made it sound like she was keeping them in jail or something. One of them could distract me for the moment, while the other made his escape. She sighed. Polite boys, but mischievous ones. They were really growing up to be just like their father and their uncle Heyes. Come to think of it, now there was an idea . . . .

So that afternoon, when Kid Curry and his wife returned to the Heyes’s house to fetch their children, they were treated to an unexpected sight.

The children were arrayed on the lawn, and various pieces of furniture had been brought down from the porch and set up almost as if . . . almost as if it were a courtroom. Their eldest son appeared to be defending their younger. He was cross-examining his baby sister, Sarah, asking her about his client’s whereabouts on the night of the twenty-third. He didn’t pronounce whereabouts exactly correctly, but close enough.

Meanwhile, little Arabella Heyes, clearly meant to be the judge, was seated on her mother’s lap, on the porch steps. She was presiding over everything, waving a gavel aimlessly about and occasionally whispering to Ella.

An assortment of dolls, stuffed toys, a china dog and several potted plants made up the jury.

And Jed swore to Heyes later that Thaddeus, after simply nodding his greetings to his parents, was heard to say clearly and distinctly, “May it please the court--“

Later, Thad explained to his parents. “Auntie Ella said we oughtn’t to play Cowboys and Indians, like the other boys do at school, because it’s disrespeck . . . disrespectful to mama and grampa.”

“So now we play Outlaws and Lawyers,” Joshua concluded.

Heyes, having overheard the conversation, whispered to Ella, “So after you get Bella to bed, what’s say we play some Outlaws and Lawyers ourselves?”

Ella gave him a stern glance. “You left me. On my own. With four children under the age of eight. Four very active children.”

“Who I spent all yesterday afternoon and evening with. While you sat there reading. It was your turn, honey.” And then he gave her that smile that always made her insides go all funny, even after all these years.

“Well,” she said, with a hint of reluctance. “I suppose you have a point . . . Counsel will take it under advisement.”

He just looked at her, with his warm brown eyes.

"Counsel withdraws the charges."

He winked. "See you upstairs in a little bit . . . ."

**Author's Note:**

> When I get around to writing the in-between stories this will be mentioned, but Arabella was named after Arabella Mansfield, the first woman lawyer in the U.S. (admitted to the bar of Iowa in 1869). Ella and Bella just seemed like a natural kind of progression.


End file.
